


Style Counts

by cureelliott



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cureelliott/pseuds/cureelliott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mondo watches Chihiro in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style Counts

**Author's Note:**

> I focused a lot on the relationship between Chihiro and Mondo but I firmly believe in this ship as an OT3 so Ishimaru is kicking around in the background. I plan to write a more detailed story about all three of them and their relationship in the future. 
> 
> This story exists either pre-canon or in a non-despairing AU.
> 
> This story uses exclusively female pronouns to refer to Chihiro.

Watching Chihiro get dressed is Mondo’s private pleasure. Not in a perverted way, no, never, just something he enjoys doing. Not that he would ever admit to it. 

Ishimaru is usually up before the both of them. He’s dressed, ready for school and making them all breakfast in the tiny apartment they all share. It’s the smell that wakes Mondo and he feels Chihiro’s tiny, warm body slip out of bed beside him. 

From under his eyelashes he watches her go into the bathroom and he hears her turn on the faucet and wash her face. The bathroom door is open and he can see her reflection in the mirror as she pushes her hair back with a terrycloth band and scrubs her skin gently with a cloth. 

Her skin is practically paper white from spending so much time in dark, computer filled rooms. In photos of the three of them, she looks even paler next to Ishimaru’s semi-permanent excited blush and Mondo’s own suntanned skin. He offers to take her for motorcycle rides on sunny days, but she’s startled by the engine’s loud noise and Ishimaru always remarks that motorcycles are dangerous and no place for a lady. 

Next she applies the littlest touches of make-up. Once, she’d confessed that Celes had given her tips after Enoshima made her cry over her “sloppy, cheap looking mascara”. She smoothes out her pores with a fine powder and rolls a thin black line along her eyelid. Her hands shake while she carefully applies a touch of mascara. She looks essentially the same without it but the dark touches around her eyes make them look brighter. 

Ishimaru doesn’t like the make up because technically it’s not allowed at school but he shut up about it after Mondo decked him for telling her to take it off. 

“She can wear whatever she wants, idiot! If it makes her feel nice, what’s the harm?!” 

She comes out of the bathroom and takes off her pajamas. She used to change clothes in the bathroom, but she’s gotten less shy lately. 

Mondo hasn’t. 

She starts taking off her underwear and Mondo closes his eyes and pulls the comforter up close to his face to hide his blush. 

He waits until he hears her close a drawer before peeking again. She’s standing facing away from him and he allows himself a glance down at her panty clad bottom. They’ve got little green stars and hearts on them. 

Watching her put on a bra is fascinating. He’s not completely sure how she does it but she starts off with it on backwards and upside down and then she moves it. Up around her chest, clipped at the back and straps neatly crossing her shoulder blades. She puts two small oval pads in each cup and it makes them puff out, just a bit. 

Next she rolls on her long socks and slips into her skirt. It’s got extra lining sewn into the inside to make it puff out more. 

Mondo remembers them all sitting in the living room together in front of the television. Ishimaru was on the floor in front of Mondo, doing the next several weeks worth of homework and was pouring sweat over a difficult math problem. Mondo could see his shoulders twitching in frustration but he knew better than to comfort him or try to tell him there was plenty of time to finish it. 

Chihiro was sat in an overstuffed chair which, combined with Ishimaru’s old gym uniform she was wearing as pajamas, made her look extra tiny. She was stitching the fluffy layer of crinoline into her skirt by hand and hissing every time she poked herself with a needle. Finally, she yelped as she stabbed herself a little too hard in the thumb and Mondo sighed. 

“Give it here. You’re going to get blood all over it.” He said, ignoring her fuss as he took the needle, thread and fabric away from her. “You have to keep your thumb tucked in, like this.” She watched attentively as he finished the job, sucking on her wounded finger. 

Her stitches were sloppy and uneven next to his clean line. Years of practice had paid off-- stitching gang logos onto his jackets and stitching closed open wounds in the mirror had given Mondo plenty of time to perfect his technique. 

“What’s this for, anyways.” He snipped off the last of the loose threads and handed the skirt back to Chihiro, she blushed. 

“Oh... well... just to make sure everything looks... flat.” She looked away, embarrassed, and smoothed her delicate fingers along Mondo’s stitches. 

It took Mondo a minute to understand, but when he did he grunted in reply. 

“It’ll look nice.”

It did look nice. Everything Chihiro wore look nice. Even if it was just their school uniform. 

She buttons up her blouse and slips on her blazer. Mondo hides his smile behind the blankets as she struggles to straighten her tie-- Ishimaru was always nitpicking her about it. 

“Fujisaki-kun! Aniki! Breakfast is ready!” Ishimaru calls to them and Mondo rolls onto his stomach and hides his face in their pillows. 

“Um... Oowada-kun.” Chihiro is standing at his side, tapping his shoulder lightly. “It’s time to get up.” 

Mondo turns his head and squints up at her, scowling. She smiles, smoothing out her blazer. 

“Do I look alright?” 

Mondo sits up and avoids her eye. Instead he picks a bit of lint off the hem of her skirt. 

“You look good, kid.” He says and ruffles her hair as he stands. In the bathroom, he can see her reflection smiling at him in the mirror as he closes the door.


End file.
